


More of a Clusterfuck than a Crew

by AlexanderTheMostlyOkay



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Multi, Mute Ryan, NB Gavin, Trans Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexanderTheMostlyOkay/pseuds/AlexanderTheMostlyOkay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoff caught wind of someone cheating death up in New England. Only logical next step is to check it out.<br/>Turns out Jeremy is a little bit more than what they were expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Initiation gets violent when you can die without consequences

“It doesn’t fucking snow in Los Santos,” Geoff mumbled under his breath as he stepped off the jet onto the runway, wishing he had worn something heavier than his suit jacket.

Michael shrugged, “I don’t know what you were expecting, it’s fucking New England in February.” He looked comfortable, heavy scarf under his jacket covering half his face. It had the unfortunate side effect muffling his voice to the point that Geoff only heard every other word. He decided that what he didn’t hear he didn’t want to hear, so ignored him altogether.

They walked, more briskly than they normally would, to the car parked on the opposite side of the runway. Geoff moved to get in the driver’s side, but Michael butted in before he could open the door. “Are you really thinking you can drive in this snow? ‘Cause I know you can’t.”

“I am perfectly capable.” Geoff stated manner-of-factly, before Michael raised an eyebrow. Geoff sighed and moved over to the passenger side door. “You cannot tell Jack. She’ll have my ass.”

“She already kinda has your ass though, doesn’t she?”

“Shut up,” Geoff retorted.

Michael coughed out a laugh under his scarf, grabbing the map out of the passenger side pocket and tossing it as Geoff. “Just navigate me.”

Geoff begrudgingly flipped through the map book, trying to find the airport and their destination. “Why’d I have to come to this? Ryan’s ass is used to colder temperatures than me.”

Michael pulled off his scarf and threw it across the back seat. “Yeah but Ryan’s not exactly a great conversationalist.”

“You’d be able to talk enough for the both of you.”

“Yeah but mister ‘I am scary and don’t speak a goddamn word of English and I’m seven and a half feet tall’ isn’t exactly great at getting people to like us.”

“What part of this makes you think we want this guy to like us?”

“Well I don’t want him shooting us in our sleep.”

“Like that’s going to do much.”

“That’s besides the point,” Michael said, turning down a side street. “Okay what am I looking for here?”

Geoff pulled a scrap of paper out of his jacket, unfolding it carefully. “Some sort of gym. Didn’t get a whole lot of details from the guy.”

“We’ve had months to get a hold of him, why the fuck don’t we have details?”

“Apparently payphones are expensive.”

“So a shitty gym, got it,” Michael sneered.

 Michael pulled the car to the side of the street, in front of a rundown building that advertised a boxing ring in burnt out neon signage. He locked the car, but debated staying with it, looking at the state of the neighborhood around him. Last thing he needed was a to deal with a stolen car with a popsicle version of Geoff. He eventually caved and walked in the gym behind his boss.

Despite the cold, inside was warm and humid, though mostly empty. There was a man cleaning some equipment, and a young woman, maybe in her late teens early twenties, manning the desk. She barely looked up from her magazine when the bells on the door chimed. Geoff and Michael silently decided that she would be of little to no help, more likely to give them the runaround than give them any sort of information.

“So,” Michael muttered, “What now?”

Geoff continued walking through the gym, and air of fake purpose around him, “We find the guy and get him out of here. And give him a goddamn shower,” he deadpanned, examining the dirty laminate flooring.  He found a door leading to a back room, and pushed it open, Michael following his lead.

Inside was the lone patron of the gym, a short stocky guy who seemed to have a personal vendetta against the punching bag he was using. He was so focused in his workout that he didn’t notice the pair enter. It wasn’t until Geoff spoke that he even looked up.

“Uh, Jeremy?”

He paused, turning to face the two of them. His chest was heaving, sweat pouring down his face. Geoff also notice that his knuckled where covered in bruises and scabs, though he wasn’t sure what to do with that information yet.

“Yeah? What’s it to you?” He didn’t have any ill-intent in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

“I’m the guy who offered you a job a couple of months back.”

His breathing stopped for a second, processing the situation. “Shit,” he muttered, “You’re early.”

“By five hours,” Michael said, purposefully laying on his accent, trying to match Jeremy’s thick Boston cadence.

“But I mean, it’s more than enough time to not look like a mess.”

Geoff shrugged. “This works too. Gives us a better idea of what you’re actually like.”

“And if you didn’t want us to see you like this, why’d you ask us to meet you at a gym?” Michael said with some distain.

He paused a second, jostling his shoulders. “I uh, live above here.”

“Well that’s convenient. Come on kiddo, let’s go check out the bachelor pad.” Geoff said, turning to walk out.

Jeremy looked like a scared rabbit about to make a break for it, but he grabbed his towel and jogged ahead of Geoff and Michael to hold the door open for them. The three of them stepped out of the gym, the cold hitting the trio and blasting snow into the entry way behind them. “It’s up the stairs on the side of the building,” Jeremy explained, walking into the alley and up rickety metal stairs that looked too close to a fire escape for anyone’s comfort.

Jeremy swiftly unlocked the door, and welcomed the gangsters inside. They both moved to sit on Jeremy’s threadbare sofa while he stood in the entryway. “You guys uh, want a drink?”

“Any liquor will do,” Geoff stated.

“Got any beer?” Michael responded in turn.

They sat in silence while Jeremy dug around his kitchen, and then still in silence as he handed them their drinks.

“Sorry if the beer’s a little warm. My fridge, uh, isn’t fridge-ing.”

“You could just put in one of these fucking snow banks,” Geoff muttered, sipping his drink.

Jeremy gave out a nervous laugh in reply, the kind of ‘I’m trying to appease you’ kind of laugh. “Yeah, it must be pretty cold coming here from Los Santos.”

“Fucking freezing,” Geoff replied, no humor in his voice.

“So uh,” he stumbled, “What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“There’s not a ton to talk about, we just wanted to make sure you’re legit. Word of mouth is only so good, we had to make sure you weren’t lying through your teeth about…the thing.” Geoff explained. “We’ve had people lie to us in the past, and it generally doesn’t end well.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched up. In response, Michael leaned over to whisper something to Geoff that he couldn’t quite make out.

“Well, I’m not lying,” Jeremy said, somewhat sheepishly. “I have the scars to prove it.”

“Eh, a lot of people survive stabbings,” Michael stated nonchalantly.

“Not a ton of people survive getting stabbed and then shot in the head.”

“What the fuck were you doing, kid?”

“I uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it off. “I accidentally fucked up a match.”

“What does that mean?” Michael questioned.

Jeremy’s gaze darted around the room, obviously embarrassed about what had happened. “Someone promised me a lot of money if lost one of my matches. I didn’t want to make it obvious so I socked the guy and sorta unintentionally knocked him out in the first round.”

Geoff gave a quiet whistle. “You must have some arm.”

“Nah, the guy was just made of glass, I swear. Anyways, in the locker room the guy came in and started telling me off, which I expected. Didn’t expect him to pull a knife on me, he got me at least six times in the gut. I was, uh, awake for that. Then he pulled a gun on me and shot in in the head. Next thing I knew, I woke up in a dumpster half way to the suburbs.”

Michael shrugged, taking a swig of his beer. “I’ve had worse nights.”

“Yeah, be thankful he didn’t dump you in the bay. That’s no fun, let me tell you,” Geoff commented.

“You just kinda drown on repeat until someone fishes you out,” Michael explained.

Jeremy looked horrified. “Does that,” he paused, gesturing wildly, “happen often?”

Geoff shook his head. “Nah, but you should ask Jack about that though. She’ll talk your ear off about it. Still riding the high of offing the asshole.”

“She made it painful,” Michael chimed in.

“That’s really besides the point though,” Geoff said shooting Michael a look. He didn’t want Michael to scare off the recruit before he could test him. “Why’d you want to join us?”

“Well if the news is to be believed,” Jeremy started.

“It isn’t,” Michael and Geoff cut in.

“But don’t you guys, not die or age or anything?”

Michael shrugged, “I guess East Coast reporting is than better the shit they write in Los Santos?”

“But, if I’m going to be stuck like this, might as while make it worth my time, right?” Jeremy finished. “Plus, having some people around who know what’s up would be nice.”

Geoff gave a quiet nod, setting his drink down on the coffee table. He then pulled out his gun and shot Jeremy between the eyes.

Michael jumped to this feet, spilling his beer on the sofa and himself. “What the fuck Geoff!?”

He picked up his drink and took another sip. “If he’s legit I’ll get him some morphine out of the jet and he’ll be fine. If not, he shouldn’t have wasted our time.”

“But now there’s brains all over the place Geoff.”

He shrugged and hosted Jeremy onto the couch, watching his head loll forward and spill blood down his front.

“What’d’ya think of him?” Geoff probed.

“He’s way too trusting. Just invited us into his apartment? And we already have Ryan to be our muscle, we don’t need someone else to do his job.”

“Yeah, but if we want Ryan to go full time on sniping we need someone to replace him.”

“Okay, but this guy? He’s so small.”

“He said he knocked that guy out without even trying. And it could be decades before we find someone else like us.”

“Alright,” Michael resigned. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with Geoff.

“So it’s settled. When-”

“If,” Michael interjected.

“When he wakes up we load him onto the jet and we’ll see how this works out.”

On que, Jeremy’s head fell back and he let out a quiet moaning noise. Muscles slowly began to reanimate as his forehead scrunched and slowly he opened his eyes, squinting against the light of his apartment.

Before he had a chance to say anything, reprimand Geoff for killing him in his own house, Geoff extended a hand to him.

“Welcome to the crew.”


	2. Jetlag doesn't always apply but exhaustion does

The flight back was mostly uneventful. Sure, Michael narrowly avoided a mid-air collision while taking off, but he missed the other plane and that was all that mattered in the end.

They hadn’t given Jeremy time to clean up or pack, so he found himself sitting in a plane that cost more than his net winnings and lifetime salary combined in a bloody wife beater and bright green nylon shorts. He was still out of it from the bullet in the brain, so he hardly noticed when Geoff jammed a needle into the underside his arm.

Bleary eyed, he turned to Geoff. “Why’d you have to shoot me?”

“Wanted to make sure you were the genuine article, buddy,” he replied casually as he connected the drip, flicking the tubing a few times to get the liquid flowing.

"Don't you have a way to test that beyond putting my brains on the wall?"

"Not really."

From the cockpit, Michael yelled, "He put a Tommy gun in my mouth, you're lucky."

Geoff shook his head. "Well he's also a resilient little shit."

"Damn straight I am!" Michael called out.

Nodding his head in agreement, Geoff commented, "Michael took a grenade that blew off about a quarter of his right side and finished the heist without going down. He's just fucking hard to kill."

"And that's why you love me."

They slipped into a comfortable silence as Geoff moved to sit across from Jeremy, sinking into the plush of the seat, before fishing a cigar out of his jacket and a lighter from his pants pocket.

He puffed on it for a bit before twisting his wrist and offering it to Jeremy. He tried to take it from him, but as he reached the needle holding the IV in place drove deeper into his arm. He paused and shuttered, then reached out his other arm. Geoff leaned forward to meet him this time, pretending not to have noticed his mistake.

“How’s your head treating you?” He asked, as Jeremy took a drag from the cigar.

He let out a few smoke rings, trying to show off, then replied, “It hurt like a bitch but I’m feeling better now. That is a hell of a drug.” He tipped the cigar in the direction of the drip bag.

“Yeah don’t think you’re going to get that often though. Morphine dependence is no fun. Matter of fact, we should probably pull you off that before we land.”

Jeremy made a displeased noise from the back of this throat at the thought and leaned forward to hand the cigar off. Michael sauntered in from the cockpit, unplugged headset dangling from his neck.

 “Shouldn’t you be, you know, flying?” Jeremy asked, with some alarm.

Michael shrugged. “Eh, autopilot’ll take care of us.”

“It’s a long flight kid,” Geoff remarked, “No way he could just sit there the entire time. He’d lose his goddamn mind. Almost as bad a Ryan about flying.”

Jeremy sat for a second, thinking. “Remind me again,” he finally said, “Who’s Ryan?”

Both Geoff and Michael had to hold back laughter, but their amusement was clear to Jeremy. “No,” he insisted, “I really don’t know who he is. I only know Geoff because he offered me the job.”

“Dude, he’s the Vagabond,” Michael chocked out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, are all of you moonlighting in serial murder?”

Michael squinted at him, “What the fuck did you think you signed up for? Murder is basically in the job title.”

“Well I figured it would be more…low profile murder.”

“Oh there’s plenty of that too,” Geoff said between drags of the cigar. It was almost burnt up by this point, so he stubbed it on the plane’s siding, inciting an eye roll from Michael.

“What?” He questioned.

“Stop trying to fuck up my plane!”

“Technically it’s _my_ plane, I bought it for you.”

“Geoff, it was a birthday gift. It’s mine.”

“Yeah, but I signed for it.”

“You signed for it with a bullet in dealership’s ceiling.”

“Whatever, go call Jack and tell her we’re headed back, she’s probably worried by now.”

“You’re just pissed you don’t have a good comeback,” Michael said as he stood up to go back to the cockpit. 

“Yeah go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t I have you for that?”

“If you keep this up, you won’t.”

Jeremy figured it was not a good idea to question any part of this conversation, so decided a short nap would help pass the time. It also didn’t help that his headache was beginning to cut through the drugs.

He was woken by Geoff tugging the IV out of his arm. “We’re landing soon buddy, don’t want you high out of your mind for that.”

On que, Michael came on over the intercom. “Please take your seats as we prepare for descent. It’s a lovely 54 degrees in Los Santos today, slightly cloudy with a chance of organized crime.”

“You’re not funny!” Geoff called, as he pressed some gauze down onto the inside of Jeremy’s elbow.

As they came to a sliding stop down the runway, it was already early morning in Los Santos. Michael taxied them into a hanger then shuffled from the cockpit, yawning. Jeremy noticed that Geoff looked tired as well, realizing that his sleep schedule was 4 hours off from theirs’. 

“It’s too late to get any housing put together for you, so I think you’ll have to crash at the base. Ryan’ll be on watch there, so you’ll get to meet him. We can get an apartment put together for you in the morning, and you can meet the rest of the crew then too,” Geoff explained between yawns.

“By morning he means three in the afternoon,” Michael deadpanned.

Geoff slid into the driver’s seat and Michael moved into the passenger side, forcing Jeremy to cram himself into the almost non-existent back seat.

Michael cranked up the radio, and sang along with an obnoxiously loud voice, to the point Geoff was humming along. It freaked Jeremy out. It was all to domestic and mundane, it didn’t fit with any of his notions of what criminal life was like. Even when he did underground boxing, no one was this friendly with each other. It put him on edge, made him feel like he was missing something.

They pulled into a parking garage littered with a whole set of sports cars. Michael left, grabbing one of his own cars, saying that he was heading home. Geoff waved him off as he ushered Jeremy into the elevator and jammed a key in a panel and hit the button for the penthouse floor. The ride up mostly silence, only interrupted by Geoff’s yawning.

“You okay sleeping in the guest room?” He asked as the elevator dinged on the second to top floor.

“Uh, sure. Any reason I shouldn’t be?”

A little too quickly Geoff replied, “No.”

“Anything I should know about uh, Ryan before I meet him?” He stumbled over his name, thinking about the various news reports he had seen on the Vagabond and his supposed danger.

“Not really. He doesn’t speak English at all, but he’ll understand you just fine if you need anything. Real nice guy once you get to know him.”

“Okay.” He tried to sound sure of himself, but ended up sounding like a kid who had been told a bullshit explanation by their parents and was going to begin to press them for more information. Geoff ignored this.

The elevator stopped, and opened directly into the penthouse, which was dark besides for a pale incandescent lamp in the living room. “Ryan it’s us, don’t shoot,” Geoff said nonchalantly. A figure stepped out from besides the door to the elevator, shotgun in hand. He tilted his head curiously and nodded to Jeremy, who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“That’s the new guy,” Geoff explained. “He’s cool.”

He let the shotgun swing to his hip, and reached out a hand to Jeremy. “Ryan, meet Jeremy. Jeremy, meet Ryan,” Geoff introduced.

Ryan let out a cautious smile and a nod, and Jeremy mirrored him. He had to tilt his head up to make eye contact before he took Ryan’s hand and shook it. He then walked away to sit on the couch, shotgun and all, and picked up the book he had laid face down on the couch.

“I’m going to set him up in the guest room, remember that he’s here, okay?” Geoff said, leading Jeremy through the living room. Ryan, not looking up from his reading, gave a thumbs up.

Geoff showed him his room, with a large plush looking bed with floor to ceiling windows dominating the wall opposite the bed, giving a view of the city beneath him. It was in that moment the reality of the situation hit Jeremy, that he was finally moving on from barely-regulated street matches and doing his own stiches and living on ramen noodles and canned soup.

He turned to Geoff, admiration in his eyes. “Thank you so much,” he mumbled out, trying to keep any sort of emotion out of his voice.

“Not a problem. I think there’s some clothes in the dresser over there if you want to change into something else. Might be a bit big for you though. I’ll see if I can enlist someone to help you get your stuff from Boston,” He replied, trying to stay calm himself. The big eyes this kid was giving him were getting to him. _I must be getting soft_ , he thought. “I’ll let you sleep then,” he finished, leaving and closing the door behind him.

As soon as he left, Jeremy began digging through the dresser, trying to find something to sleep in. All of the clothes were obviously for someone much taller and thinner than him, but ended up finding a pair of pajama pants that almost fit and a baggy shirt that he used to replace his bloody wife beater. He figured a shower could wait until morning because no way was he poking around this house to find the bathroom, for fear of finding something he shouldn’t.

He turned the light off, and slipping into the bed, sinking into the mattress. Regardless of the city lights and sounds just outside the window, he fell asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that basics are out of the way, I can start moving into the meat of the story! Expect an update soon-ish, I'm on break so I don't have to worry about classes getting in the way.


	3. Wakey wakey eggs and serial killers

eremy was woken earlier than he would have liked by the morning sun streaming in the windows. He then noticed the floor to ceiling curtains that adorned either side of them, and kicked himself for not noticing them the night before. But, he was awake then and figured that he might as well stay that way.

He also didn’t see any clothes that would fit him beyond what he was wearing, so he left his room, to try and see if any of the other crew members had wandered in. What he didn’t expect to find was the sight that greeted him in the kitchen.

A red-haired woman he didn’t recognize was sitting at the island, slipping a mug of coffee and periodically taking bites of a donut in her hand. Michael was seated in a bar stool next to her, also eating and very animatedly telling a story, his voice carrying through the apartment. Geoff stood in the kitchen with Ryan, who appearing to be frying eggs.

Everyone stopped talking when they noticed Jeremy. The woman spoke up first. “Jeremy?” she asked.

When he nodded in reply, she stood up to shake his hand. “I’m Jack, pleasure to meet you.” She turned around to yell into the living room. “Gavin! Get in here.”

A mop of dirty blond hair appeared from behind the sofa, then the figure attached to the hair vaulted over the back of the couch. They scrambled across the room to greet Jeremy, and did so with a rather enthusiastic handshake. “I’m Gavin, nice to meet you,” they introduced. “I think we’ll be working together a lot, right?”

He glanced to the rest of crew with a panicked look. Geoff explained, “They’re our tech guy. Might need you to babysit them.”

“Then I guess we will,” Jeremy replied, turning back to Gavin. “Nice to meet you.”

They looked him over once more, then asked, "Are those my clothes?"

Jeremy shrugged, "I guess they are?" A blush was starting to grow on his cheeks. This was quite possibly the least professional moment of his life, and at a time where he needed to be more professional than he had ever been before. "It was what was in the guest room," he mumbled.

"Well I'm just surprised they fit you!" Gavin exclaimed, finally moving back over to the couch.

Jeremy was a little frazzled by everyone, so in an effort to calm him down, Michael handed him a donut from the box next to him. "You should eat something," he said, "We've got shit to do and we don't need you passing out on us."

He gladly took it and bit down. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he was eating, quickly shoveling the rest of the thing into his mouth.

"Goddamn, didn't they feed you on the way here?" Jack asked.

"No," Jeremy replied, swallowing, realizing that the donut was really all he needed.

She turned to Geoff, giving him a sour look. "You didn't feed him?"

Geoff shrugged. "He was a little out of it."

"He did a little repainting in Jeremy's apartment if you know what I mean," Michael said, making finger guns.

She rubbed her forehead for a second, sighing. "Geoff you have to stop shooting recruits. We've talked about this."

"Eh, it was cold and I wanted to get out of Jeremy's apartment," he leaned in to fake-whisper, "It was really shitty."

"Hey!" Jeremy protested.

"No, it was absolutely a piece of shit," Michael chimed in. Jeremy couldn’t really argue that, especially after spending the night in the bed he did.

In the midst of Jack and Geoff's argument, Ryan raised a hand and picked up the skillet. He walked around Geoff, who was leaning up on the island to get face to face with Jack, and opened a cabinet with dishes, pulling out a plate. He slid the egg from the skillet onto the plate, grabbed a fork from another drawer, and then took it to the living room. Gavin appeared once again to take the plate from him and then sunk back into the sofa. Ryan leaned into them behind the couch, like he was whispering something to Gavin, although that didn't make any sense to Jeremy.

While he was pondering it, Ryan came up to him, filling his entire vision. He pointed to the skillet with an inquisitive look on his face, then pointed to Jeremy.

"You want to cook me?" He asked, distressed.

Ryan shook his head vigorously, then mimed cracking an egg into the skillet.

"Oh, you want to know if I want eggs." He felt embarrassed for jumping to cannibalism so quickly, but Ryan didn't seem hurt. "Uh, can I just have a fried egg?"

Ryan nodded and smiled, once again inching around Geoff and Jack back into the kitchen, their argument not having slowed down. Jeremy followed lead and shuffled around Geoff to join Ryan by the stove. He watched as Ryan’s careful hands cracked an egg on the counter, then pressed his thumbs into the crack he made, plopping the egg into the pan without breaking the yolk. He then reached into the carton for a second, and Jeremy tried to stop him.

“Oh no, I only want one.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, then held out two fingers.

“No, I really only need one.” That donut was already more breakfast than he normally has.

He shook his head in reply and cracked the second egg anyways. He then shuffled around to the microwave and grabbed a loaf of white bread. Ducking into the cabinets he also pulled out a toaster.

By then Gavin had finished their egg and sauntered back into the kitchen, dumping their plate in the sink, then hopping up onto the counter. “Rye, there’s no way he’s going to eat all of that. He’ll explode.”

Ryan once again shook his head and shoved two slices of bread into the toaster, then hurried back to the stove to dust the eggs with salt and pepper, shaking the pan to make sure the yolks were still jiggly.

“Does he do this a lot?” Jeremy asked Gavin.

“Only for special events.”

Jeremy paused for a second. “Am I a special event?”

“Well duh, you donut. It’s not every day we get a new crew member.”

“Oh.” He let the gravity of the phrase sink in.

Ryan shoved a plate of eggs and toast into Jeremy’s hands, then very gingerly placed a fork on top of that. He walked away and busied himself with cleaning up, but every time Jeremy looked at him, he would be watching at him intently, waiting for him to take a bite.

“Just eat it, it’ll make him feel good,” Gavin whispered.

He took a small bite, knowing he would never make it through the whole plate, but by god he was going to make a noble effort. Ryan saw this and gave a small nod and a smile, going back to the dishes.

Though Geoff and Jack had been bickering through this entire process, Jack looked over into the living room where Jeremy and Gavin had settled, listening to them talk while Jeremy worked on the plate. She turned back to Geoff and said, “Yeah, this is going to work.”

Michael stood up to join them, grabbing the plastic bag he brought with him from the counter. He dropped the bag at Jeremy’s feet, explaining, “Just some clothes and a toothbrush. Geoff promised to get you some actual stuff today but you can’t go out in Gavin’s pajama’s.”

Through a mouthful of food, Jeremy replied, “Thanks Michael!”

“Yeah don’t mention it. Now finish up, we’ve got shit to do.”

Jeremy put the plate down on the coffee table, much to Ryan’s dismay, and grabbed the bag. “Where’s the-” he began to ask.

“Right by the bedroom,” Jack answered. “Already got shampoo and stuff too.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy said as he shuffled down the hall, trying not to trip on the cuffs of his (Gavin’s) pants.

The first door he opened contained a lot more guns than anyone would think a bathroom should have, and quickly both Geoff and Jack corrected, “Other one!”

“Got it.” He was beginning to think it was a good idea to not poke around the house the previous night.

Once he found the actual bathroom, he locked the door and stripped, turning the shower on to let the water heat up and steam up the bathroom. He took this time to brush his teeth, dislodging pieces of egg and toast.

Once he deemed the water warm enough, he stepped in, letting the water wash away the grime and blood of the previous day. He finished quickly, out of habit more than out of want.

He dried off with the towel he deemed the rattiest, which was still miles ahead of what he used regularly. He also noticed that he clothes Michael gave him where still too big for him, but just long instead of too thin. By the look of them, they had to be Michael’s.

He rolled up the cuff of the jeans and ventured out, after grabbing his sneakers from the bedroom.

Geoff called him from by the door, him and Jack already half way in the elevator. “I’ve got an apartment lined up for you, figured you might not want to sleep here every night,” Geoff mentioned as he pushed the button for the garage.

“Ryan had to take care of the last guy who lived there, but it’s probably not haunted,” Jack joked.

Jeremy had a little bit of a hard time finding the humor in that.

Seeing his concern, Geoff quickly added, “He didn’t kill him anything, just kicked him out. Motherfucker wouldn’t pay rent.”

“We’re also going to get you some actual clothes so you can stop stealing from Michael and Gavin,” Jack said, trying to fill the dead air.

There was a long silence, then Jeremy said, “I don’t have any cash though, you know that right?”

“Eh, it’s our treat.”

They reached the garage and then found one of Jack’s cars, one with an actual back seat. Jack took the driver’s seat, while Geoff and Jeremy sat in the back. She drove them through downtown Los Santos, haphazardly weaving in and out of traffic, scaring the hell out Jeremy every time there was a near miss.

Eventually, they pulled up to a smaller apartment building, much shorter than the ones surrounding it, but equally as grandiose, made of grey brick and large glass windows.

Jack stayed with the car as Geoff and Jeremy walked up to the building, getting into the elevator in the lobby. They rode up in quiet, letting the ding of the elevator fill the air. When it stopped, Geoff fished a key out of his pocket and tossed it to Jeremy.

“Number 4, second on the right,” he explained as Jeremy turned the key over in his hands.

His hands shook slightly as he opened the door, finding the apartment fully furnished with dark wood furniture and soft lighting fixtures, giving the entire place a soft reflective feel.

He could have hugged Geoff in that moment, if he didn’t have a gun trained on him.

Jeremy dropped the key in shock. “You already know I’m legit, you don’t have to do this,” he stammered.

Geoff let out a small laugh, which turned into a rather large wheezing noise that filled the whole apartment. “Oh my god I got you so good.” He turned the gun around, offering the handle to Jeremy. “It’s for you, idiot.”

Jeremy gently took the gun, turning it over in his hands. It had a small insignia on the butt, and his initials craved in the metal under that.

“We can get it customized to something else later, but I figured you want something to protect yourself in the big scary city.”

Geoff was right, but he didn’t realize that he was the one doing that, not the gun.


	4. In which Geoff bothers customer service

Jeremy stuck the gun in his pants, before Geoff stopped him.

“You’re going to blow your dick off like that, lemme get you a body holster.”

“I thought that was what all the gangsters did.”

“The dumb ones do that. Way too easy to bump the trigger then it’s ‘Bye bye Geoff Junior’.”

“You talking from experience?”

“Nah I’m talking from Michael’s experience. Dumbass,” he commented while leading them back to Jack’s car.

When they got there, Jeremy was left awkwardly holding the gun while Geoff dug through the trunk, trying to find the least blood stained holster. Jack waited patiently in the driver’s seat, messing with the radio.

“So, what are you going to have me doing?” Jeremy asked cautiously, slightly embarrassed he hadn’t asked before getting sucked into the whole crew.

“Geoff is probably going to keep you around for security. We don’t have any heists lined up for a while so right now you’ll be with Ryan making sure our whole drug operation doesn’t go south. Might have you as a bouncer at some of our more uh, sensitive clubs. Probably’ll make sure Gavin doesn’t get themself blown up.”

“That it?”

“While until we get some heists in order. Then we’ll need you out with the rest of us.”

“When do you think that’ll be?”

“Not for a while, especially because you’re new to this whole thing. We’re not going to plop you out in the middle of a firefight with the LAPD in your first week. We’re not monsters,” Jack said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

Geoff popped his head up from the trunk, holster in hand. “Found one!” he yelled, beaming. He sauntered up to the passenger side door, tossing the holster to Jeremy. “You know how to put that on?”

He held it up, looking for any kind of snap or buckle. “Not a clue,” he admitted.

Geoff took it from him, unbuckling it and leaning down to throw it around Jeremy’s shoulders, holding one of the straps out for Jeremy to put his arms through. He then took the other strap, running it under Jeremy’s other arm and across his chest. He was intimately close to Jeremy, causing a slight blush to creep down from his ears onto his cheeks.

Geoff straightened back up, electing to ignore Jeremy’s blush, and sat himself in car next to Jack. Jeremy climbed into the back seat, barely closing the door before Jack sped off.

“So, what’d’ya like to wear? Beside’s Gavin’s and Michael’s clothes.”

“Uh, anything from the thrift store?”

Jack sighed, and Geoff replied, “Yeah that’s not going to work.”

“Grab him a couple of suits and see where it goes from there?” Jack suggested.

Geoff nodded, then turned to Jeremy. “You’ve ever been fitted for a suit?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Wore one to my cousins wedding once, but I had to steal that from my dad. Fit like shit.”

“He a little bit taller?” Jack asked, half joking.

“Yeah,” Jeremy replied. “I got my height from my mom. Four foot nine and I wasn’t going to wear her clothes to a wedding.”

“Why? Bet your chest would look great in a dress,” Geoff said offhandedly.

“Yeah uh, might have been a bit short?” Jeremy dodged.

“What, worried your dick would hang out under it?” Jack joked.

Jeremy blushed and turned away, not knowing how to continue this without going on in detail about his penis with his employers.

“Oh my god you’re hung aren’t you?” Geoff laughed.

Jeremy didn’t respond, face entirely red.

Jack leaned over to Geoff, whispering something to him that Jeremy couldn’t quite catch.

“Well we’re here now so it doesn’t matter,” Geoff shot back.

Jack parked the car in front of the clothing store, both Jack and Geoff leaving the car. Jeremy paused for a second, unsure of what to do with the holster. “Should I uh, take this off?”

Geoff and Jack had to keep from laughing. “God no,” Jack answered.

“Only take that off in the goddamn shower,” Geoff added.

“Lot of people around here not a fan of Fake,” Jack explained as Jeremy stepped out of the car.  He began to wonder what he had gotten himself into.

The three entered the store, Jack holding the door open. Geoff led Jeremy up to the sales consultant, the gun in his jacket as his appointment. “We’d like to see if we can get a couple of suits for this guy,” he said, gesturing to Jeremy. “Get them fit as well.”

“Right this way,” he replied, remarkably calm. He led them to the back of the store, to a large bay of dressing rooms. “Any styles in mind?”

“You’re the expert.”

"Of course, sir," he replied as he opened the door to one of the larger rooms. "Would you like your companions to come with us?" he asked.

Jeremy looked over to them, unsure how to respond. Geoff answered for him. "I'll come. Jack wants to browse a bit." Jack nodded, then walked back into the rest of the store.

The consultant then left to go and find a few candidates for Jeremy, leaving them alone in the dressing room.

"Do you treat all your employees like this?" Jeremy asked, as Geoff sat on a white leather padded bench.

"Only the ones I like."

"You like me?"

"Trick question, I like all my crew. Wouldn't have them on payroll otherwise."

"So you do treat everyone like this."

"Yeah but you needed a little more work than the other members."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're total street trash, kid. Everyone else here comes for a little bit of a more refined background. Fuck, Ryan was royalty."

"And you were?"

"I was an Alabama boy in the 1800's, but I cleaned up nice before everyone else started showing up."

"So you're the oldest?"

"By a country mile." 

"What was that like?"

"Confusing as fuck. One moment I was dying of gangrene and next I was perfectly fine. Nurses didn't know what I do with me so I just kinda, left. You're lucky you had at least some kind of idea as to what was going on."

"Didn't really though," Jeremy finished, somewhat sheepishly.

"But you knew about us so that's a good thing."

"Yeah-" He was about to start when the consultant walked back in, several suits over his arm.

The next hour flew by in a blur, the consultant taking measurements, throwing different shirts and jackets at Jeremy. What he did remember with clarity was Geoff's eyes on him, watching intently.

It was a confidence booster, having this powerful man looking him over, not sizing him up but enjoying the view.

They ended up with five different suits, and an assortment of shirts and ties. Geoff, in an over-the-top manner, paid entirely in cash, leaving a heavy tip.

Jack met up with them at the door, started the car as they piled in.

“You know he needs more than suits?” Jack said blandly.

Geoff shrugged. “But the suits look nice.”

“Whatever. I have to grab some stuff for Michael at so I’ll get him some basics then too.” She turned around, “You a boxers or briefs guy, Jeremy?”

“Can I just get my own stuff?”

“Sure, but I’ve got a job for you and Ryan tonight so it’ll have to wait,” Geoff replied for her. 

“Already?” Jack asked, incredulously.

“Can’t just let him sit on his ass. Besides, Ryan’s been getting a little stir-crazy.”

Jeremy chimed in, “What exactly am I doing?”

“We’ve got a few dealers that have been cutting their supply and giving us a bad name. I just want them ruffed up a bit. Make sure they don’t fuck with us. Simple shit.”

“Yeah that is a good first job,” Jack agreed, reluctantly.

The trio parked in the basement of Geoff’s high-rise, then made their way back to the base, leaving Jeremy’s clothes in Jack’s car.

Gavin greeted them enthusiastically at the door, while Ryan peaked up from a book and Michael craned his neck from where he was sitting next to Ryan.

“Ryan we’ve got a job for you,” Geoff called out. Ryan perked up, nearly dumping Michael on the ground as he stood up.

He made finger guns, mocking shooting someone, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah you’ll get to whack someone,” Geoff replied.

Ryan smiled and headed off to the bathroom.

“I want you guys out there by eight, Gavin doesn’t have eyes on him after ten,” Geoff said curtly, checking his watch.

Michael peaked up from behind the couch. “Is this that dude who tried to sell you blow that was ninety percent saw dust?”

“Yeah, still pissed about that.”

Ryan made his way back to the living room, face painted black and red. Jeremy nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight, looking at him and only seeing the Vagabond he had heard so much about, not Ryan, the man who served him eggs and toast that morning.

“You ready to go, buddy?” Geoff asked.

Ryan shook his head, bringing his left hand to his face.

“Yeah I don’t have a clue where your mask is.”

“I do!” Gavin called from in the living room, bounding up to them. They handed Ryan a grey skull mask before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“You have makeup all over your lips now,” Jack chuckled.

“Eh, I have makeup all over my lips most of the time,” they replied, wiping their lips on their sleeve.

Ryan slid the mask over his face, then gave a quick thumbs up. He leaned back into Gavin to try and return the kiss, but ended up just banging the mask against their face, as if he had forgotten it was on.

“You dope,” Gavin giggled, tapping him on the arm.

“Alright ya’ll are gross and we’ve got to go,” Geoff said, already opening the door. “Jeremy, Ryan, get out of here. Gavin, stop embarrassing yourself.”

He shoved the pair out the door, before realizing that sticking a new recruit with someone who has extremely limited communication skills might have not been the best idea. He didn’t stop them.


	5. Similar to first dates at amusement parks but with more gunshots

Jeremy followed Ryan like a lost puppy down to the garage, where Ryan grabbed keys off a hook on the wall. He tossed them to Jeremy, who nearly dropped them, as he was given no warning, just keys flying at his face.

Ryan pointed bluntly to a motorcycle, and Jeremy walked over to it, admiring the polished chrome. Ryan nodded to him, and Jeremy climbed on the bike, jamming the keys into it and letting it purr to life. Ryan climbed on behind him, flattening himself against Jeremy.

He jumped at the sudden closeness, and in reply Ryan made a raspy noise in the back of his throat that could have been mistaken for a laugh. “So how am I going to know where to go? I’ve never driven here before,” Jeremy said, trying to bulldoze over the physicality of the situation.

Ryan squeeze on Jeremy’s right shoulder, then his left, as if he was steering him.

“Okay, I can do that,” he muttered, then revved the bike, and took them out of the garage. After a few false turns, they were speeding smoothly through the city.

Jeremy tried to ignore the sinking feeling forming deep in his stomach, instead focusing on the city moving past him in a blur. It was a bizarre sensation, watching everything move at such speeds while having the bike and Ryan as anchor points. Eventually Ryan squeezed both of his shoulders and Jeremy let them coast to a stop, deep in Los Santos warehouse district.

“This the place?” Jeremy asked cautiously.

Ryan nodded, then checked himself for his gun and, as Jeremy learned, his rather large knife collection.

The pair entered one of the warehouses, Jeremy’s heart just about to beat out of his chest. “Wait, shit, what are we doing?”

Ryan just shrugged, pulling a handgun out from under his jacket. He fired it 3 times into the ceiling, causing Jeremy to jump out of his skin. The echo of the gunshot rang in his ears for a few seconds before he heard heavy footsteps coming towards them. He panicked, and then went to pull his gun, struggling with the holster.

Half way through unsnapping the piece of leather that held his gun in place, he paused and turned to his partner. “Ryan, I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

Ryan gave a very audible sign and handed him a knife before walking further into the warehouse, presumably towards the footsteps. Jeremy followed closely, more rattled than he should have been.

As the footsteps grew louder, Ryan held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. The footsteps stopped as they did, leaving them in deadly silence.

A gunshot broke that silence, leaving Ryan is a decently sized hole in his shoulder. He let out a noise that could only be described as a growl, whipping around as he looked for the source of the bullet, notably unperturbed by what said bullet had done to him.

He spotted the shooter, across the warehouse on the level above them on the catwalk. Ryan took off across the warehouse floor, taking shots at their assailant.

Jeremy paused for a second, unsure of how to proceed. But, his self-preservation kicked in and he followed behind Ryan, instinctively hunching up and bringing his fists up to his chest. 

Ryan made his way up to the stairs, sprinting up to the shooter, bullets flying at him, some missing, but more finding their mark than not. He quickly made his way up to the catwalk, stopping directly in front of the man, and letting him finish unloading into his chest before unceremoniously returning fire, directly into his skull, and watching him crumple. He bent down to search the newly made corpse, while Jeremy looked on in shock.

“Are you…okay?” Jeremy asked.

Ryan nodded and gave a thumbs up, before lying down on the floor.

“Sure?”

He nodded again, head banging against the catwalk.

“Was this the only dude we had to uh, take care of?”

The metal against skull noises continued.

“You want to head back to the base?”

He shook his head no, then began to sit up. Jeremy offered him a hand, the one that wasn’t holding a knife. Ryan took it, pulling himself up.

“Where are we going then?”

Ryan strode off, prompting Jeremy to follow him, still a little shaken from the whole event. He was also starting to wonder why he kept asking for anything beyond yes or no answers.

Ryan stumbled out of the building, back to their motorcycle. He jumped on in front, letting Jeremy climb on behind him this time. He barely had his leg over before Ryan sped off.

They moved a lot quicker with Ryan driving. Where Jeremy was cautious, paying attention to traffic signals and cars, Ryan ignored ever traffic law in the book, ran every light he could, and routinely drifted into the oncoming lane while making turns. Jeremy clung onto him for dear life. Every near miss, Jeremy jumped, squeezing his arms tighter around Ryan’s chest, and caused Ryan to shake with silent laughter, apparently amused by Jeremy’s unconscious self-preservation.

They drove out of the city, out into the expensive residential district in the surrounding hills, and eventually out into the boondocks beyond that. The road narrowed to a poorly maintained two-lane highway, then finally to a dirt path. In the dead of winter, it quickly became pick black, forcing Ryan to turn on the headlights.

They turned off the dirt road, onto what any rational person would describe as a deer track. Jeremy was worried that the motorcycle, all sleek chrome, wouldn’t be able to handle the rough terrain, but Ryan was unperturbed. Soon the headlights showed a small, quaint, but seemingly well maintained house.

The spot in front of the garage was paved, and Ryan slowed the motorcycle to a stop there. Jeremy unwound himself, letting Ryan get off before sliding onto solid ground, resisting the urge to get down on his hands and knees and kiss the dirt.

Ryan fished a key out of one of his jacket pocked, unlocking the front door, holding it open for Jeremy. He followed closely behind, pausing and locking the door.

The house was sparely decorated, almost as small and barren as Jeremy’s apartment back in Boston. “Is this a safe house or what?” Jeremy asked, plopping down onto the ratty sofa.

Ryan sat down on a worn leather chair across the room, digging in the magazine rack next to it. He pulled out a small whiteboard with a black marker.

He began to scribble onto it, then held it up to him. “No, my house.”

“Oh,” Jeremy replied, taken aback. He looked for something nice to say about it, but couldn’t come up with anything before Ryan held up a new sign.

“Know it’s shit. Never stay here.”

He erased that with the sleeve of his jacket, then wrote, “Grabbing a shower. Bedroom 2nd door on left. Clothes in dresser.”

“Can I get a shower too?”

“Only if you want to join me. Almost no hot water.”

Jeremy blushed deeply at the thought, and then even more so as Ryan walked away, pulling his shirt off over his head, and gave Jeremy a very good view of his muscled back.

It took a second for Jeremy to realize he was crushing over a notoriously violent criminal whom he had just watched murder a man, and that any emotion he was feeling was probably just the adrenaline high wearing off.

But no matter how he tried to rationalize it away, he figured that regardless he found the man attractive and was going to do something about it, and if not now, then in the near future.

He acted on a whim and followed Ryan down the hallway. Before he could open the bathroom, Jeremy asked, “Were you joking about the whole shower thing?”

Ryan froze, shook his head slowly, and then dashed back into the living room. He came back with his whiteboard, frantically writing on it. “If you want, that’s fine. Whole crew is dating though.”

“What do you mean, the whole crew is dating?”

“Dating Gavin, Gavin’s dating Michael, Michael’s dating Geoff, Geoff’s with Jack, Jack’s with everyone,” he wrote, Jeremy leaning around his shoulder as the sentence unfolded. He looked at Jeremy for conformation that he read the whole thing before erasing and starting over. “You okay getting into that mess?”

He was surprised but not shocked, it explained a lot of what he had seen earlier. “Well I’m already in the middle of it, so why not go all the way, you know?”

“Thank God. I didn’t want to have to make the 1st move,” Ryan wrote, waited for Jeremy to finish reading, then scribbled “Was lying about the hot water. See you in 10,” before throwing the board back into the living room and giving him a very light kiss on his cheek.

Ryan ducked into the bathroom and locked the door before Jeremy could do anything. The ten minutes that followed were some of the longest minutes of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is just going to be smut, so feel free to skip if you wish, you won't miss any plot


	6. Sexual Interlude-Ryan puts out on the first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just completely gratuitous smut, enjoy

Jeremy followed Ryan’s instructions, and let himself into the bedroom down the hall from the bathroom. The bed was clean and made, to the point that Jeremy almost felt bad plopping down onto it, wrinkling the sheets. He considered undressing, but decided it would be better to wait.

He kicked his shoes off, the laid down flat on the bed, shaking his leg violently. He hadn’t a clue as to what to expect from Ryan, nor had he expected him to be so open to sex, especially sex with him.

Decided he didn’t have a better way to wait, he traced the cracks in the ceiling with his eyes, seeing how they all eventually met in the middle of the ceiling, spider-webbing out from the fan.

Finally, after tracing them all, Jeremy closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the house, the water from the shower gently hitting the wall, and if he strained, he could hear the faint noise of Ryan humming some rock song hoarsely.

Soon the water shut off, and Ryan appeared in the doorway, face clean of makeup and hair still wet and hanging around his shoulders, free from its usual pony tail. He was shirtless, jeans low slung on his hips. Jeremy sat up quickly, giving a small whistle as he looked up and down Ryan’s body.

Ryan smirked, pleased with Jeremy’s reaction. He walked to the bed, sitting down next to Jeremy, and shifting his weight so the bed dipped at an angle that brought Jeremy thigh to thigh with him. Ryan wiggled his eyebrows, fishing for compliments at his suave moves, but just prompted a small giggle from Jeremy. He fake-frowned, before moving in to kiss Jeremy’s neck.

Ryan twisted his torso so he was almost straddling Jeremy, hopping up to his knees so he could lean down over him, forcing Jeremy to stretch his neck to the side to give Ryan access.

Fed up with the angle, Jeremy grabbed one of Ryan’s knees and pulled it over him, so that Ryan was straddling him. This also had the side effect of throwing off Ryan’s balance, and he fell onto Jeremy, both of them parallel with the bed. Jeremy laughed quietly, and felt Ryan’s body shake against him as he did the same.

Slowly Ryan sat back up, and Jeremy propped himself up on his elbows. Ryan ran his fingers along the hem of Jeremy’s shirt, gently pushing it up to let his hands roam along Jeremy’s stomach.

He didn’t have visible abs, Ryan noted, but felt hard muscle move as Jeremy shifted. He slowly pushed the shirt all the way up, making Jeremy lie flat as he stretched his arms to get it off over his head.

Ryan didn’t push the shirt off all the way immediately, enjoying the view of Jeremy laid out beneath him, mostly the look of his arms, traps and pecs clearly defined and flexed. Jeremy eventually took matters into his own hands, pulling the offending shirt off and throwing from the bed.

Jeremy sat up again, Ryan now sitting on his thighs. Jeremy wrapped him arms around him, kissing his face and feeling the scratch of Ryan’s slight beard against his lips and cheeks. Then, as he felt Ryan melt into the kiss, he flipped he around so his back was pressed into the bed. Ryan barked out a laugh in response, relaxing into the new position.

Ryan eventually looped his fingers around Jeremy’s belt loops, looking for a good place to hold on as they began to move against each other. He gave a two fingered tap against Jeremy’s shoulder, and he sat up, curiously. He pushed him off, turning on his side to reach to the bedside table, grabbing a pair of condoms and a bottle of lube from the drawer.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, “Do we still get that kind of thing?”

Ryan shrugged, and Jeremy decided, regardless, he didn’t want to risk it.

He set them down on the bed next to them, as his hands reached for the button of Jeremy’s pants, then pulled them down smoothly, bringing both the jeans and his underwear to his mid-thigh. Ryan smiled and nodded, pleased that just a little dry humping and kissing could bring him to half hardness.

Once again, they flipped, Ryan pinning Jeremy down and brought himself eye level with Jeremy’s cock. He then completely ignored it, in favor of his thighs, kissing and nipping his way down to where the jeans hit his legs.

Jeremy gave out a shaky sigh, hands twisting in the sheets, as Ryan worked his way back up, with his hands drawing simple patterns on his legs and lower stomach. Ryan finally gave up teasing, reaching up to grab the condom, tearing it open with deft fingers.

He took it out of the package, and noted with zero surprise that it was an obnoxious shade of blue. Gavin must have snuck in and replaced his cache again, prick. Regardless, popped it in his mouth and began to stroke Jeremy to full hardness.

Jeremy did his best to lie still, but left his thighs shaking and hips twitching involuntarily in response to Ryan’s touch. Against his better judgement, he let a small moan escape.

Ryan then put his mouth around Jeremy entirely, putting the condom on with his lips, then rolled it the rest of the way on.

 “Do you want me to, or…?” Jeremy asked carefully, voice shaky.

Leaning up to grab the bottle of lube, Ryan nodded. He then began to undo his own pants, and Jeremy’s eyes widened as he pulled his own cock from his jeans.

“You have to be a show-er because if not we’re going to need to swap roles. I don’t think I’ll be able to get through this without that in me.”

Ryan shrugged, cracking up the bottle of lube and drizzling some on his hand, rubbing it on Jeremy. After a few lazy strokes, he rolled over, kicking his pants off all the way. He rolled the other condom onto himself, this one a flashy pink, the squirted a bit more lube into his hand, letting his fingers roam southwards.

Jeremy’s hands joined his and he began to pet around the inside of his thighs, then moved up to circle his hole. After teasing for a few seconds, Jeremy pushed in, slowing bring two fingers in to the second knuckle. Ryan let out a low groan in reply.

“That feel good?” Jeremy asked, genuine concern in his voice.

He nodded slowly, adjusting to the feeling.

“Okay, uh, tap me or something if I’m doing something wrong.”

Jeremy began to pump his hand slowly at first, then picked up the pace, as he watched Ryan come undone beneath him.

He felt powerful, remembering who exactly he was with.

As Jeremy added a third finger, a broken moan came out of Ryan, and Jeremy’s cock twitched in interest.

“Oh fuck,” he said quietly, feeling Ryan shift under him. “Can I…?”

Ryan nodded again, more frantically.

He pulled out, pouring more lube over his cock and slowly pressing in.

Ryan was having none of that, and rocked his hips into Jeremy, having him halfway immediately. Jeremy gasped at the sudden sensation.

Quickly Ryan grabbed onto Jeremy’s shoulders, then flipped them so his hands were pressed against Jeremy’s chest and he was almost seated on his dick.

He leaned forward and began to nip and kiss around Jeremy’s shoulders and clavicle, while arching his back and slowly rocking his hips.

Jeremy’s breath began to come in short pants as his hands searched for something to hold onto. He settled on Ryan’s shoulders, then ran his hands up to play with his hair, tugging slightly.

Ryan continued to ride Jeremy, cock heavy and straining against his stomach with every movement. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and slid his hand between them to jerk himself off.

The rocking of Ryan’s hips, coupled with the small motions he made while he was touching himself, was getting to Jeremy. His fingers tightened in Ryan’s hair, feeling himself getting close. He chocked out a warning before coming, body going stiff then entirely boneless under Ryan.

Ryan dismounted, rolling to the side, slowly stroking himself. Jeremy noticed this, tying off his condom and tossing it in the waste bin under the nightstand. He moved over to Ryan, laying doing on him, slightly off center so he could move his hand to match Ryan’s.

Ryan gasped, clearly not expecting Jeremy to help finish him, and let his own hand slowed to a stop as Jeremy’s hand replaced it.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Jeremy praised, between kisses to Ryan’s chest. Soon, Ryan’s hips were jerking up to meet Jeremy’s movements. He froze, coming silently, letting Jeremy stroke him through his orgasm.

Jeremy carefully pulled the condom off, tossing it in the bin alongside his.

“Thanks,” he murmured, post-orgasmic haze taking over. He threw his arms around Ryan’s shoulders, slowly drifting to sleep on top of Ryan.


	7. Everyone but Ryan talks a lot, but Geoff talks the most

jeremy woke up to the shrill ring of a phone from out in the living room and Ryan jerking awake under him.

Ryan quickly shook him off and sprinted through the house to get the phone, leaving Jeremy sleepy, cold, and naked in the bedroom. He groaned, looking for the sheets he had undoubtedly kicked off during the night, and buried his face into the pillow, trying to block out the light.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, he gave up and looking for the pants he had discarded the night before. He pulled them on, then went into the rest of the house to see who was talking to Ryan.

Phone in one hand, playing with the wire in the other, Ryan was cradling the speaker against his ear, standing in the middle of the kitchen. Periodically he would tap once or twice against the receiver, but was otherwise unresponsive.

Jeremy wondered why he would bother having phone if he could only use it as a radio.

Ryan heard him enter, and quickly waved him over and handed him the phone.

Geoff, on the other end, kept talking unaware that the listener had changed. “…I’ll need the pair of you back tomorrow and please don’t scare him away.”

“Uh, Geoff?” Jeremy interrupted.

“Oh shit, Jeremy. Hey there.”

“Yeah Ryan gave me the phone,” he explained.

“I figured. Everything go okay? Nothing crazy?”

“Well uh,” Jeremy started, thinking of the job, and Ryan acting like the goddamn angel of death. “Ryan got shot a lot.”

“Well yeah.”

“Like, a lot a lot. And he was fine?” Now that he thought about it, there was no proof of anything that had happened to Ryan, besides a bullet-hole-filled jacket.

“He’s been doing this a lot. He can take a few hits.”

Ryan heard this, and gave a shrug coupled with a little too self-satisfied smirk.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes at this. “A few hits I get, but the guy put at least a clip into him. No one should walk away from that.”

“The only reason you kicked the bucket from a bullet is because you haven’t been shot enough. Ryan’s been through hell and back, shit like that raises your lead tolerance.”

“That…” Jeremy started, but trailed off.

  
“You were going to say that it didn’t make any sense, huh?”

“Well it doesn’t really,” he muttered.

“Yeah well neither does you getting shot in the head and coming back from it with nothing but a headache,” Geoff replied, his voice getting snarky.

“But I still died.”

“And Ryan might have too if the target didn’t have shitty aim. Just go with it, it’ll make everything much easier.”

Jeremy didn’t reply to that.

“Well, anything else happen?”

By this time Ryan had grabbed the whiteboard and had scribbled on it, “Tell him we banged!”

Jeremy covered the receiver with his hand and whispered back, “No, I’m not going to tell him that!”

“Tell me what?” Geoff asked, already with an idea of what was going on the other side.

“Nothing,” Jeremy replied, a little too quickly.

“If you don’t tell me now Ryan’s just going to when you guys get back.”

Ryan had written “Just tell him,” on his whiteboard.

Jeremy relented. “Uh, Ryan and I, we,” he paused, looking for something that made the situation seem more professional than it was. “Had a good time together.”

“Did he suck you off?”

Jeremy turned beet red, stammering into the phone.

“Oh my god he did, didn’t he!” he leaned away from the phone, yelling to whoever was with him. “Gavin! You owe me two hundred!”

Even fainter, Jeremy heard Gavin yell on the other side, “Bullocks!”

“You were betting that I was going to sleep with Ryan?” Jeremy asked, quietly.

“No,” Geoff explained, “We were betting that Gavin was going to be the first to get with you,” he leaned away from the phone again, “And they just lost!”

“Really?”

“I mean, Gavin’s pretty good at getting people in their bed so I’m actually surprised Ryan bet them to it.”

“No, not that,” Jeremy said, “You’re not freaked out or anything, that I slept with him?”

“God no.”

“I thought you were all together though?”

“In the way that it’s convenient to fuck people you’re with all the time. Don’t worry, you’re not a home-wrecker or anything.”

“It’s a fairly open relationship,” Ryan chimed in, tapping Jeremy’s shoulder to show him.

“Okay,” Jeremy said, “What now?”

“We meet up back at the penthouse and debrief, about the job and about the whole ‘letting Ryan suck your dick’ thing.”

“To be fair to Ryan, he did more than suck my dick.”

“Oh? We can share all the juicy details when you guys get back. Ryan?” he yelled, wanting Ryan to hear him but not considering that Jeremy still had his ear to the phone. “Changed my mind. I want you guys back here this afternoon. Get on the road now.”

Ryan grabbed the phone from Jeremy, tapping onto the receiver, then hanging up. He picked up the whiteboard again and wrote, “Take a shower in sub 20 min, or one when we get back. I’ll get everything put together.”

“Alright, I’ll skip on the shower for now. Anything you want me to help with?” he asked.

Ryan shook his head, walking back to the living room and gathering assorted guns and knives all attached to various straps of leather or nylon knits, and then eventually moving back to the bedroom to put some actual clothes on.

Jeremy sat down on the sofa, worn seats just letting him sink deep in the cushions. He noticed that Ryan has left his mask on the coffee table, so he picked it up, running his hands over the ridges in the plastic.

After coming back fulling dressed, Ryan saw him toying with it, and quickly snatched it out of his hands, very quickly putting it on his face instead.

He wrote “Get a shirt on, we’re leaving,” then erased the whiteboard and shoved it in the magazine rack it was stowed in the night before.

Jeremy wasn’t going to protest, so threw on his (Michael’s) shirt from the night before and clipped on the holster Ryan had thrown at him. He had assumed he had done it correctly, but Ryan shook his head the moment Jeremy stepped out of the bedroom.

He unclipped the holster himself, then pulled it off Jeremy, moving behind him to throw it over his shoulders. He reached his arms around, circling Jeremy’s chest.

Jeremy, not able to see Ryan’s face and gauge his reaction, decided to err on the side of caution and didn’t take this chance to rub his himself against Ryan. After the snap clicked into place, Ryan handed him Jeremy’s pistol to slide into the holster, and watched bemusedly as Jeremy struggled to put it in place.

Finally, he took pity and strapped it in himself before walking out the door with keys to the motorcycle and house. Jeremy followed closely, after doing a quick once over of the house, making sure he had left nothing behind, regardless of the fact that the only things he could have left behind were his clothes, which he was wearing.

Ryan was standing on the porch, waiting for Jeremy to exit so he could lock the door after him. When Jeremy left, he did so, then used his longer stride to get ahead of Jeremy. He hopped into the driver’s position on the bike, revving the engine. Jeremy jumped on behind him, barely getting his leg over before Ryan sped off.

Ryan was a lot more careful driving on the way back into the city, presumably because it was day and out-maneuvering the cops was not high on his to-do list.

When they got back to the garage, Geoff was already waiting for them. “Good ride back?” he asked.

Ryan nodded, and Jeremy gave a small affirmative.

“Alright then. I want to debrief Jeremy, but Ryan, you’re free to do whatever.”

He shook his head, following the pair into the elevator. There was a long, unbroken silence before Geoff spoke up. “Was he any good, Ryan?”

Ryan shrugged in reply.

“How do you think you did, Jeremy?”

“I didn’t even fire my gun so I would say that I didn’t do shit.”

“Well at least you’re honest,” Geoff murmured. “I wasn’t expecting you to do these kinds of jobs anyway, so it doesn’t matter, really. But you did get along well with Ryan so that’s in your favor.”

Ryan solemnly nodded underneath his mask.

The three of them stepped into the penthouse as the elevator dinged, rest of the crew waiting just outside.

Jack was the first to say anything. “Congrats on not dying on your first job!”

“Did a better job than Gavin then,” Michael chimed in, not looking up from the paper he was reading.

Gavin turned around to face him, shooting him an indignant look. “Michael, why.”

“What, you got fucking blown up first time you stepped into the field. It’s not like I’m lying.”

“Stop making me look bad!”

“You do that all by yourself,” Michael replied, smiling slightly.

“Did he really get blown up?” Jeremy asked quietly, leaning to Geoff.

Geoff nodded. “They. And yes. Took them days to put themself back together. That’s why they tend to run support.”

“You got off easy,” Jack added.

Geoff raised his eyebrows. “Not the only thing he got off.”

“Oh holy shit you did Ryan?” Michael asked, putting down the paper and turning to face the trio.

Jeremy blushed and Ryan nodded, starting to pull off the mask.

“Yeah and Gavin still owes me two hundred bucks,” Geoff said, glaring daggers into Gavin.

“Look I don’t carry cash anymore,” Gavin tried to cover.

“Bullshit you don’t. Last strip club run you had at least seventy bucks just in ones,” Geoff countered.

“Yeah, but,” Gavin started to say, but bolted out of the room to avoid any further confrontation.

Geoff didn’t try to follow, but yelled, “If you think you’ll hide in the heist room, remember that I have the keys.” He turned to Jack. “You want to help debrief?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, standing up. “Heist room?”

“Yep,” Geoff said, finally walking into the rest of the penthouse.

Jeremy and Ryan followed Geoff and Jack as the turned down the hallway, notably past the room where Gavin was ‘hiding’. Jack waited while Geoff unlocked one of the doors, which was noticeably heavy-looking. He held it open as the other three walked in.

They sat around an oval wooden table, across from a huge whiteboard and a well-marked map of Los Santos. A similar map was spread out on the map, full of ‘x’s and with huge patched lightly shaded or marked off with a dotted line.

“So, how’d you think you did, Jeremy,” Jack asked.

“I did fuck all. Ryan did all the work,” Jeremy answered, honestly.

Jack sighed, “Well besides that. Hold up okay? Not super traumatized?”  

“No I’m fine. That wasn’t the first time I’ve seen someone die, if you were curious.”

“Wait, really?” Geoff said.

“Underground boxing doesn’t pay enough for good medical care,” Jeremy said, off handedly. “Some people think they have what it takes when they really don’t.”

“Holy shit, kid,” Jack commented.

“You ever kill someone?” Geoff asked, not tip toeing around the subject.

“Maybe? I’ve fucked up people pretty bad before and I don’t really follow up afterwards. Wouldn’t be surprised if someone bit it.”

“Okay, so we’re not going to seriously mess him up by having him do a few jobs, that’s for sure,” Jack said to Geoff.

“And besides what he talked about on the phone, anything you want to mention?” Geoff continued, after nodding to Jack.

“Uh, I can’t think of anything.”

Geoff turned to Ryan. “You have anything?”

He stood up and grabbed a marker, writing on the map. “Doesn’t know how to shoot a gun.”

“Oh that’s a problem,” Jack replied as soon as she read it.

Geoff nodded in agreement. “Yeah we need to fix that. “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would apologize for taking so long to write this, but I think spending time on school is a valid excuse for taking a break on this.


End file.
